Where's Ruth?
by HR always live on
Summary: A HR multi chap fic, set somewhere past S10, but where most of S10 didn't happen. (if that makes sense!) It's Harry and Ruth's wedding day, and you know as much as me. Ch 8 posted.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is a multi chapter story I'm writing in a completely different way to my normal method. I have no idea what's going to happen next, and I'm writing each chapter as it comes to me with absolutely no forward planning. This could either be a brilliant idea or a train wreck. That said, enjoy!**

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><p>Harry bit his lip, trying to hide his nerves as he looked at his watch. She was two minutes late. Only one hundred and twenty seconds, but she knew this was important and he felt nervous at her absence.<p>

"Dad, stop pacing," Catherine said as she gripped his arm. "She'll be here, you know she will." He smiled tightly, looking at his beautiful daughter for a moment before replying. She wore an elegant peach dress and matching heels, and he marvelled silently that he'd managed to have a part in creating this gorgeous person in front of him.

"I know she'll be here, but…"

"You know full well what's keeping her. It'll be MI5. For God's sake dad, you did her job for twenty years before you retired. She will be here."

"Yes, you're right," he said, taking a deep breath.

"I've never seen you this nervous before," Catherine observed, her lips twitching with amusement. While growing up, her father had been unshakable, and she'd never seen a chink in his armour. Clearly Ruth was one of the rare exceptions.

"Look, I'll call her," Catherine said. "See where she is."

"No, don't," Harry argued. "She'll either be here or she won't. Calling won't change that."

"Okay," Catherine said. "I won't call." Catherine looked at Malcolm, sitting down perfectly calmly as they awaited Ruth's arrival. He didn't seem a bit bothered at Ruth's lateness, quite unlike Harry.

The click of heels on the hardwood floor made all three of them look up. "The Pearce-Evershed wedding?" The registrar said, looking at them expectantly.

"We just need a few minutes," Malcolm said pleasantly. "The bride's running late." The woman sighed, looking at her watch as she clearly wanted to get home at the end of a long day.

"I can give it ten minutes," she said. "Then I really have to lock up and go home."

"I will make it worth your while," Harry said. The woman looked at him, evaluating his expensive suit and then nodded once. "Half an hour then," she conceded."

"Thank you," Malcolm said. The registrar vanished from sight and Harry got his phone out.

"You just said not to call her sixty seconds ago," Catherine reminded him.

"Yes, well I've changed my mind," he said shortly. Catherine looked at Malcolm who shook his head, saying louder than words that Harry was not to be argued with.

The phone was picked up after only two rings, but Ruth didn't speak into the phone. Instead he could hear her arguing with her driver. "No, I don't care about the one way street," she said sharply. "Drive up there and drop me on the left. I'll pay the fine, just go." He heard a muffle then she spoke to him. "I know, Harry, I know, I'm almost there."

"I was just checking you were still coming," he said softly.

"Of course I am," she said. "I…" They were interrupted by several car horns beeping loudly in the background. "Oh sod it." He heard the car door open and close and then Ruth came back. "I'm five minutes away, if that."

"It's okay," he said. "Take your time. Catherine's got your flowers."

"Oh good," she said, glad that they'd arrived. "I love you."

"I know," he replied gently. "I love you, too."

Catherine watched her fathers face and then turned to Malcolm. "Does he always look like that when he speaks to her?" Catherine had been on friendly terms with her father for quite a while, but she had only met Ruth a couple of times.

"What, all doe eyed?" Malcolm asked with a slanted smile. "Yes, usually. He always did."

The door banged suddenly and Ruth emerged into the lobby, breathless and a little windswept. "I'm here," she gasped. They all turned to see Ruth, wearing her flattering white linen suit, her heels clutched in her right hand from where she'd clearly run to get to the registry office. "I'm here," she repeated. Harry's face lit up with joy to see her, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her a soft and lingering kiss. When they broke apart she was smiling. "I'm so sorry," she said, moving to a seat and slipping her heels on. "I got here as quickly as I could."

"I know," Harry said. Once her shoes were on, Catherine passed her the small bouquet of pink silk roses and Ruth smiled at her future step daughter.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

The registrar appeared again, looking relieved now that Ruth had shown up. "Are we ready?" Ruth and Harry both smiled at each other, never having felt happier.

Harry grasped Ruth's hand tightly. "Shall we?"

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><p><strong>Forty five minutes earlier, Thames House.<strong>

"Dimitri, Azam is in custody, I no longer care what he says or does," Ruth said, knowing she was snapping, but also knowing she was late to her own wedding. She looked around the office that had belonged to Harry for so long and now belonged to her. Then her eyes came back to Dimitri who still looked worried. "Look," she said more softly. "The building will still be standing come tomorrow, Erin can handle things until after my honeymoon, you know she's more than capable." She picked up her garment bag and nodded to him pointedly. "I'm getting changed." Dimitri left and she locked the door and pulled the blinds, quickly changing into her white outfit. She hadn't planned to be on the grid at all today, and it was only because Mohammed Azam decided that blowing up Manchester just couldn't wait until tomorrow that she'd deigned to show up in the first place.

She quickly brushed her hair and checked her make up, glad that she still looked presentable. Maybe she'd even go so far as to say she looked attractive.

As she left her office she was very aware of everyone's eyes on her, but she didn't engage with them, instead walking in the direction of the pods.

"What about the Azam interview when he's transported to London?" Callum said. "And the interrogation forms?"

"Courier them to my house tomorrow afternoon," she said shortly. "I have to go, I have to get halfway across London and I'm running late as it is. I'm not staying here to sign paperwork. Erin can handle the interview."

"And something else," Dimitri said.

"What!" she said, exasperated.

"I was going to say congratulations," Dimitri said, a grin tugging at his lips. "You both deserve a bit of happiness." She smiled at him, and gave him a quick hug as she felt a beautiful bubble of joy inside her.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Is my driver…?" That still felt odd, that she had a personal driver, but today she was deeply thankful that she didn't have to get a taxi.

"Waiting downstairs. Go," Erin said smiling. She took Erin's advice, hoping that she wouldn't keep her groom waiting too long.

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><p><strong>Hopefully more soon. Thanks for reading, and I hope you can leave a review.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the great reviews for the first part. I hope this is as good as chapter one. Enjoy!**

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><p>Ruth sat on the edge of the beautiful bath tub as she kicked her shoes off, sighing at them. Her cream pumps were stained with the grey of London from her dash through the streets, and they'd never come clean now. She dropped them on the tiled floor and heard a coin fall out. "Damn," she whispered, hunting for it on the floor.<p>

"What's that?" Harry asked as he came in and started filling the sink with hot soapy water.

"A silver sixpence," she said, showing it to him. "A rather old one too." She carefully tucked it in her purse before sitting down again on the rim of the bath. Apart from her bare feet, she was still dressed. Harry on the other hand had taken his jacket and tie off, and rolled his shirt sleeves up, several buttons undone at the throat. He looked delectable and Ruth couldn't help sighing in appreciation. He caught her eye and she smiled at the sparkle there as he lathered a flannel with vanilla scented soap.

"And why do you have a silver sixpence?" he asked, sitting on the closed toilet lid and nodding to her. She smiled and stretched out her right leg, so her grimy foot rested in his lap.

"I didn't intend to get married with dirty feet," she said quietly as he started gently washing her toes.

"The sixpence," he prompted gently.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. And a silver sixpence hidden in her shoe," she quoted. Harry looked up at the last line, not having heard it before. But trust Ruth to know it perfectly.

"So what's the old, new, borrowed and blue then?" he asked. She moaned slightly with contentment at the warm flannel on her foot and his sure touch on her skin.

"Well, the sixpence is old and borrowed," she said. "It's been in my family a while and my mum sent it over to me when I asked for it."

"What did your mother say when you told her we were getting married?" Harry asked, putting the flannel back in the sink again before returning his attention to her foot once more.

"Oh, the usual dire warnings that you'd make me desperately unhappy," Ruth said casually. "She thinks you're a bad influence on me."

"Yes, I did get that impression when I met her," Harry said darkly. They both knew that Elizabeth only thought that because she had only half the story about Cotterdam and other sensitive information that neither Harry nor Ruth could realistically tell her. With the result that Elizabeth thought the relationship was making Ruth secretive, and she did not approve.

"Harry, I know she's wrong, it really doesn't matter what she thinks. Oh that's so good," she added as he started massaging her now clean foot.

"So, what've we got left? Blue and new?"

"Mm, well you'll enjoy the new later on. I bought some lingerie specially for tonight."

"Oh, I will enjoy that," he agreed, eyes smouldering at her. "Other foot." She switched legs and she continued. "And I stitched blue thread into the lining of my jacket," she said, turning up one of the sleeves to demonstrate. There was a flash of blue and he smiled.

"You think of everything," he said.

"I didn't think of a change of shoes though," she said. "Thank God I didn't lose the sixpence in a London street, my mum would have killed me." He smiled, but didn't speak. "It was nice Catherine came today."

"She thinks you're good for me," Harry said. "Mrs Pearce." She glowed at that, though she had no intention of taking Harry's last name. "Were you happy with our wedding?" he asked softly.

"I'm married to you," she said. "That's all I wanted from today. I didn't want a big fuss, with people I don't like, spending our hard earned money just for one exhausting day. I loved our quick wedding. It was just what I wanted."

"Good," he said. "All I want is for you to be happy. Really."

"And you didn't need to get this hotel suite for us either," she added.

"I wanted to treat you," he murmured.

She looked at her new gold ring with pleasure. "I love you, Harry." He stroked her calves gently and she moved her foot closer to his crotch suggestively. He caught her eyes and let go of her feet, which she put on the tiled bathroom floor. "Get undressed. Now."

How could he go from normal conversation to smoulderingly sexy in a matter of seconds? "I'm not having sex on a hard tiled floor." She turned to go to the bedroom, but Harry stopped her, hands on her waist and gave her a deep passionate kiss, lips pressing against hers, tongues stroking each other. She felt a jolt of desire deep inside her and knew she needed to get to the bedroom, otherwise they'd both have bad backs come the morning. She twisted her head away to break the kiss.

"Bedroom," she breathed. He couldn't agree more.

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><p><strong>More soon.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Ruth awoke with a start from a nightmare, gasping for breath. She turned to her left, glad to see that Harry hadn't woken by her disturbed nights sleep and waited for her heart to calm down. Surprisingly, Harry was a heavy sleeper and she rarely woke him. He was especially difficult to wake when he'd had alcohol, and they'd both been on champagne the night before.

It was still dark outside, and she checked the digital clock which read four am. Her mouth felt dry and she went to the bathroom for a glass of water, throwing on a dressing gown. She still felt a bit unsettled by her dream. Harry had been screaming and she'd been unable to get to him. Her dream had been almost pitch black, she just had the total fear that she was going to lose him. Irrational, she thought to herself, trying to calm down.

After a drink of water, she felt much better and calmer, a feeling that increased when she caught sight of her wedding ring. Nine years ago when she'd joined the grid and Harry's team, she never thought she'd end up here. Married to her former boss, and currently doing his job. And she believed she was doing quite a good job of it, too. She'd brought in a new analyst, Charlotte, to cover her own absence, and two more field agents to help Dimitri. Erin had had a close call once too often, and she wanted to pull back from operations that were overtly dangerous, as she had her daughter to think of. All in all, it felt like a good team and she was happy with her role in it. But most of all, she was happy with her personal life and with Harry. She couldn't remember being this happy with herself in her entire adult life. In fact, since her father died, most likely. She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment, which is when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking, the safety taken off. Her eyes popped open instantly and she could see the man in the bathroom mirror, a gun trained on the back of her skull.

She didn't move at all, her eyes trained on the gun, and the man holding it, who had a balaclava hiding his face. He slowly put a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet and her eyes went to Harry in the mirror. She couldn't see much of the bedroom from this angle, but she could see another masked man aiming a gun at the bed and she felt a lump of ice slip into her stomach.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"Come with us," the man said lowly. He sounded English, though his eyes were dark and he had a middle eastern skin tone. She raised her hands and slowly turned around so she could face him. He was short, about her height, but he looked strong and well built. Even had she been armed, she didn't think she'd have had a chance. And with his accomplice pointing a gun at her husband… well, she wasn't stupid enough to risk anything.

"Can I get dressed?" she asked, pointing at her dressing gown and feeling very vulnerable. Predictably he shook his head and she bit her lip, accidentally feeling the spot where Harry had drawn blood the night before in the height of passion.

"Now." He walked forward, pressing the gun directly against her skull and she couldn't think of any delaying tactics without risking either herself or Harry being shot. As they were in a hotel, not their house, they didn't have any guns with them. _How could we have been so careless?_ she asked herself as she slowly stepped into the bedroom, the gun still pressed firmly to her head. _Because we were happy,_ she answered herself. They'd been lax in security because they'd been so happy. She shuffled towards the hotel room door, being as slow as she dared, a third assailant coming into view that she hadn't been able to see in the bathroom mirror.

Harry rolled over and snorted quietly in his sleep which made all of them freeze and look at him. Ruth felt her heart sink as she realised he wasn't waking up, just turning over. In a few hours he'd wake up and find her gone with no explanation. Oh God, what would he think?

"Move," the gunman said, prodding her sharply with the gun. She did, going through the door with a quiet click, leaving Harry behind her.

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><p><strong>Thanks for the reviews so far. More when it's written.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews, and I hope things get better soon for Ruth!**

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><p>The door closed and Harry listened as hard as he could for about sixty seconds, until he was sure they weren't coming back. Fighting back the panic, he reached for his phone and called the grid. "One seven nine two ZXW," he said quickly. "Erin Watts." The rings before it went through to Erin felt like torture.<p>

"This better be good."

Harry paused for a moment in surprise. Dimitri had answered. "I thought…. Is Erin there?" A very awkward silence. "You know what, never mind. Someone's taken Ruth."

There was a quick muffle of the phone being passed over, then Erin came on the line. "Tell me everything."

"Three men came into our hotel room with guns and told her to come with them," he said.

"When?"

"Five minutes ago."

"What did they want?"

"They didn't make any demands, they just wanted her to go with them."

"Okay, I'm going to red flash the team."

"Can I come on the grid?" Harry asked. "I know I'm not meant to, but…"

"Harry, I don't think there's a chance in hell I can keep you away anyway," Erin said. "I'll see you on the grid." He hung up the phone and turned the light on, quickly dressing. He attempted to fight off the fear and the panic by thinking about it logically. There'd been three of them and he hadn't been able to hear much apart from whispers. Though he had heard the telltale click of the guns, and he'd been very aware that one was pointing directly at himself. He'd only feigned sleep because he couldn't think of anything he could say or do that would help. And most likely if he caused a fuss, they'd shoot him to make things easier as Ruth was clearly the one they wanted. For what, he dreaded to think and he refused to let his mind go there. He had to focus on getting her home.

Before leaving the hotel room, he picked up his phone and felt a lump in his throat. How could it have gone so wrong so quickly? He looked at his wedding ring, hating the newness of it. It should sit there for the rest of his life, and now his wife had been taken less than twelve hours after they married. He rubbed the gold band absently, as he left for the grid.

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><p>Blindfolded, Ruth was shoved into a room with a concrete floor under her bare feet. She stumbled and fell. She took the blindfold off and blinked around the dark room. It was an empty concrete room with no windows, and a single flickering light bulb on the ceiling. A dim, horrible cold room, and she had no distractions. She must still be in London as they'd only been on the road for about twenty minutes, though with the lack of traffic early in the morning, they'd probably travelled further than she expected.<p>

How long until Harry found her gone? It'd been around four when they'd taken her from her hotel room. Harry usually woke at seven, though with retirement it'd been getting closer to eight. That was four hours. Maybe five by the time he realised that she hadn't left of her own free will. That she hadn't gone home or gone to get breakfast, or been called in to work and she'd left her phone in their room, which she'd never do by her own choice.

God, a lot could happen in five hours. She pulled her dressing gown closer, feeling both cold and incredibly vulnerable. Were they going to rape her? Oh God. She curled up in the corner when the door opened to one of the same gunmen that had taken her from the hotel. He'd taken his mask off which scared her more than anything else so far. He didn't mind if she saw his face, which meant they didn't care if she identified him later on. If she were even alive to identify him.

"Here." He threw something fabric towards her. "Get dressed." Definitely English, she thought now she'd heard him speak. Though she guessed from his features that he was from Arabic descent. Well, that and the fact that she had a sneaking suspicion this had something to do with Mohammed Azam as he was the only one they'd been dealing with closely in section D. And kidnapping her like that was not random.

"What do you want?" He nodded at the clothing and she knew he wouldn't leave to let her change in peace. Covering up as much as she could, she slipped into some jogging bottoms and a loose T shirt. Both were too big for her, and she still felt vulnerable without her underwear, but it was a much better state of affairs than she'd been in previously.

"Mohammed Azam?" the man said with a sneer.

"Yes?" Ruth said.

"Where is he?"

"In custody," Ruth said. This was hardly a secret, as his arrest had received unavoidable press attention in Manchester before they'd transported him to London.

"I know that, I meant more specifically. Where is he?"

"I have no idea," she said. This was perfectly true as she'd been in such a hurry to leave the grid yesterday. She knew he was somewhere in London, but more specifically she couldn't tell anyone. He didn't press her, which surprised her. Instead he turned and locked the door as she sighed, thinking through her chances.

They hadn't shot her, and they'd kidnapped her which meant she had value to them alive, and they wouldn't kill her until they'd either got what they wanted, or she was no more use to them. They hadn't shot Harry which meant they weren't indiscriminate murderers, though she had no illusions that they were killers. The people they killed, they had a reason for, however twisted it might be. In her present circumstances, she found that slightly reassuring. How long until Harry realised she'd been taken?

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><p>"Oh come on," Harry said impatiently, furious at how slowly this was going. Granted they'd only been on the grid twenty minutes, but it felt like an age to him.<p>

"Just as a reminder, you're not in charge around here any more," Erin said. Harry shot her a filthy look before leaning over Callum's shoulder.

"That won't get it done any faster," he said. "It's running the face recog off the hotel CCTV as fast as it can." He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Right, we've got a shot of one of them putting his mask on," Tariq said from across the grid. "Hotel employee, Aaron Smith."

"That has to be a fake name," Erin said as Harry looked at the still shot on Tariq's monitor.

"Well if it is, it's a legend that's been back stocked quite a way," Tariq said as he scanned the information on screen. "Mother's Iranian, but moved here before he was born and married an English guy. Smith's been working at the hotel for three years and… bingo, he's got access to the cleaners keys for the third floor."

"That's how they got in," Harry said, slightly relieved that he hadn't done something completely foolish and left the room door unlocked. "Any record?"

"Beyond a few parking tickets, no," Tariq said.

"Get his known associates up," Harry said. "Now." Tariq and Callum started clicking away and Harry tried to breathe and stay calm as they found the information he wanted._ I need you, Ruth,_ he said to himself. _Come home to me._

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><p><strong>Thanks for keeping reading and I hope you have the chance to review this chapter.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

Ruth found herself shivering, and she was fairly sure it was from cold rather than fear. The concrete room was freezing, and with no window she couldn't get a gauge on how much time had passed. Though she guessed a couple of hours near enough.

She heard the metallic click of the key in the lock and she stood up, wishing that she were taller. It would make her feel a little better. A group of men came in, and Ruth felt surprised when she saw five of them. There were only three in the hotel room, and now they all had their masks off, and Ruth focused on their faces intently.

"Where's Azam? the short one said. She looked into his eyes and realised that he was the one who'd pressed a gun to her head in the room.

"I don't know exactly," she said.

"Western whore." She caught the phrase said under his breath, but she didn't flinch.

"We don't want to hurt you, Ruth," another man said. She felt a stab of worry that they knew her name but pushed it aside. Of course they knew who she was, otherwise they wouldn't have taken her.

"Look, I don't know because I wasn't at work yesterday," she said simply. They looked at each other then frowned.

"We don't believe you."

"I was busy getting married," she said. "And I'm supposed to be heading on my honeymoon now." She didn't know why she was telling them this, she didn't expect them to care.

Almost before she could blink, she was backhanded around the face. The shock of it took her breath away and then the pain came.

"Where is he?"

"What does it matter?" Ruth said. "He'll be in prison for a long while, and nothing you say or threaten me with will change that." They advanced on her and she braced herself for the pain she knew was coming.

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><p><strong>13:04<strong>

Harry drank a shot of whisky, trying to keep his hands from shaking. She'd been gone too long. God, she could be dead by now. She probably was. Why would they keep her alive? She'd be a liability from the terrorists point of view. Erin and the team had at least found out who the gunmen were, and all of them, including the driver who'd been waiting outside, were of Iranian descent. But they'd had no joy in tracking them down, though CO19 had raided their flats, but it gave them no information. And with none of them having criminal records, or on any MI5 database, it gave them very little to go on.

He sat in Ruth's office, looking around and he smiled at a picture on her desk. It showed the two of them laughing together, and they both loved that picture. Erin suddenly came in the door, drawing his eyes away from the photo.

"Mohammed Azam's broken out of his holding cell."

"Who's that?" he asked.

"Attempted bomber we caught yesterday," Erin said. "I think… it might have something to do with why they took Ruth."

"You think they wanted to know where this Azam was?"

"Mm," Erin said. "But Ruth didn't know. We moved him when she was…"

"Busy getting married," Harry said, feeling hollow. "Yes. Why do you think this has anything to do with the men who took Ruth?"

"We found out last night that Azam was coordinating with other operatives over European countries, for a bombing operation, with simultaneous explosions in Paris, London, Berlin, Amsterdam and Rome. The plan hadn't got very far, or that's what we thought. In Smith's flat, we found several maps with locations circled, which links it to the men who took Ruth."

"It's not really a lot to go on," Harry said. "Maps with cities circled?"

"It's all we've got."

Harry shook as he put the whisky glass down on the desk, trying not to think about the fact that Ruth kept a bottle of whisky in her office. "I can't lose her Erin. If she d… dies, I won't be able to…"

"We'll find her."

"How?" Harry asked. The desk phone rang and Harry snatched at it.

"I'm streaming footage through to your monitor," Tariq said. Harry watched, and after two seconds saw the CCTV footage of the front of Thames House. A car pulled up and two masked men got out quickly, going to the boot of the car. They opened it and Harry's heart jumped to his throat as he saw them pulling a body out of the car and throwing it on the pavement. Throwing her, he corrected. "No, don't be dead," he prayed, unaware that he'd spoken aloud. Her hands were tied in front of her and she rolled over, pulling the gag out of her mouth and coughing hard.

"She's alive," Harry breathed, leaving the office and heading to the lifts as soon as possible, not caring about anything else. By the time he got down to the lobby, Ruth was inside, sitting on a chair as a security guard looked over her with concern.

"Ruth!" he called as she turned her head towards him. He held in his shock with difficulty as he hurried over to her and took her bound hands in his. She looked awful, her face bruised and swollen in several places and a cut going through her eyebrow. And that was before he even took in any other damage.

"I'm all right," she said, grasping his hands tightly in hers.

"You look like hell," he said.

"Oh, you know how to make a girl go weak at the knees," she said sarcastically, her lips twitching. "Can you…?" she lifted her hands in demonstration and he nodded, quickly getting out a penknife he luckily had in his pocket. When her hands were loose, he could see the dark red rings around her wrists and he buried his fury with difficulty.

"How badly hurt are you?" he asked softly.

"It looks bad, then?" she asked. Her right eye was swollen and it'd be purple tomorrow, as well as a collection of cuts and further bruising, and that was only what he could see on her arms and face. He touched a cut on her bottom lip and she smiled.

"That looks painful."

"You did that!" she said, smiling slightly. "And the scratches on my thighs." He inclined his head slightly.

"You need to get checked out at the hospital," he said gently.

"No, it's just bruises," she said.

"No arguments."

"Fine." The speed with which she agreed worried him and he called up to Erin.

"I'm taking Ruth to hospital. No, I think she'll be fine. Okay. Thanks. Yes, I'll call." He put his phone away. "Can you walk?"

"Yes, Harry," she said, exasperated. He led her to the car park, a hand in hers and not saying anything. They borrowed an MI5 car without the driver, and Ruth sat in the passenger seat, clearly tired as Harry took the keys from the driver and put them in the ignition, but didn't drive.

"Are you… really okay?"

"I'll be fine," she said.

"That's not what I asked. I meant…"

"No," she said. "They didn't rape me. And I know that's what you're really asking me." He turned to her and put a hand on her thigh very gently as she looked into his beautiful eyes, eyes clouded with worry and concern. She pressed her palm to his cheek gently as he continued.

"Ruth, I'd rather know," he said gently. "I'm not an idiot, I know what those excuses for men do when they kidnap women, and…"

"Harry, I'd tell you," she said, interrupting him. "I was expecting to be raped, and I was just hoping it'd be over quickly. But they weren't interested in me like that. They'd rather use me as a punching bag." She leaned over and kissed him very softly.

"I was so worried," he said. "I thought you'd... you'd be..."

"Look," she replied gently. "I'm not dead. Just drive. And I'm starving. I could really do with some food before we get to the hospital.

"Okay." And he drove.

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><p><strong>Thank you for the wonderful reviews. More soon, as well as hopefully answering some of the questions  loose ends.**


	6. Chapter 6

During the car journey to the hospital, Harry pried for details of her abductors, anything that could be useful for Erin back on the grid. Ruth knew what he was doing, and it was all too easy for a few minutes to forget that she was the boss now, and instead listen to Harry's wonderful voice. While Ruth was being checked over by a doctor, Harry relayed the information back to Erin on the phone.

"Is she coming in?"

"I highly doubt it," Harry said.

"Technically, I need to hear that from her."

"I know, but Erin, we're supposed to be on our honeymoon."

"Well, just tell her to call in. And I really hope she's okay."

"Any luck catching them yet?"

"No, though Tariq's tracing the car they had Ruth in."

"Great," Harry said. He said goodbye and saw Ruth walking into the corridor with a doctor.

"She's lucky, considering," he said. "Just bumps and bruises. They'll heal in a few weeks."

"Good," Harry said. He noticed the doctor was giving Harry a hard look and he guessed that he was thinking Harry was the one who'd done this to her. He debated getting him to sign the official secrets act, but he didn't have a copy with him and he wanted to get Ruth home. The doctor only looked away when his phone rang and he excused himself.

"I said I didn't need a hospital," Ruth said petulantly, making Harry's lips twitch.

"Let me take you home." She nodded and they silently walked out of the hospital. When they were in the car, Ruth held her hand out for Harry's phone.

"I assume mine's still in the hotel?"

"Yes," he said, handing it over. "Along with all of our other stuff, that wasn't the first thing on my mind this morning." She nodded, then called Erin and on the journey home they were rehashing details of the operation and Harry smiled to see her so in command of the situation. When he pulled up outside their house, he sighed.

"God, I forgot about that."

"Mm?" Ruth asked, disconnecting the call. She looked towards the house and saw Catherine waiting there, sitting on their doorstep. "Oh right, we were meant to have lunch today. God, I'm a mess," she added, looking in the rear view mirror.

"Sorry, we forgot," Harry said, getting out of the car. Ruth followed suit and Catherine's eyes stayed on her.

"What the hell happened to you?" Catherine asked, mouth hanging open.

"I'll be fine once I've had a shower," she said, smiling at her step daughter. "Honestly. Sorry, we… forgot about lunch."

"But… dad?"

"She'll be fine," Harry said firmly. He unlocked the door and Ruth kissed his cheek before going upstairs.

"Dad, what happened?" Catherine asked as they went through to the kitchen.

"Ruth was kidnapped early this morning," he said, putting the kettle on. "I think she'll be all right."

"How did you get her back?" Catherine asked quietly.

"I didn't," he said shortly. "I felt completely useless. If she'd died I…" he couldn't go on. He swallowed and tried again. "They dropped her on the street outside Thames House."

Catherine stayed silent, absorbing this as Harry made the tea. "Why didn't they kill her?" she asked quietly.

"Honestly? I don't know," he said. "I'm not complaining, but if I were in their position…." he struggled to think objectively, but then he forced the words out anyway. "If I were them, I'd have shot her. She can ID them, she's already told MI5 everything she knows about it. It doesn't make sense to leave her alive. I'm not complaining though," he added fervently. They fell silent as they each sipped their tea. Both of them were quiet for long enough for Ruth to come downstairs and Harry looked her up and down, seeing what she wore and shaking his head. "No."

"I have to go in to the grid," she said, smoothing her hands down her skirt. "I have to fix this mess. My mess."

"It's not your mess," Harry said as she put her jacket on.

"If I hadn't told them where Azam was, he wouldn't be free right now and planning to bomb five European cities," Ruth said shortly. "I have to go in to the grid, and I have to fix this."

"I thought you said you didn't know where he was in the first place," Harry said, contradicting her.

"I didn't," she agreed. "I gave them the locations of two safe houses to stop them beating me and because I like having all of my fingers. As it happens, one was right." She sighed, looking uncomfortable. "I shouldn't have said it. I could guess where we'd put him though. You know what it's like. We have about a dozen safe houses in London that are both empty and currently fit for habitation, and I got unlucky."

"Ruth…"

"You can't stop me," she said. "I no longer work for you."

"I know," he said. "I was going to say, why didn't they kill you?"

"They were going to," she said. "They wanted to check my information was good first, so they left me with two of the younger ones, while they broke Azam out of the safe house. God, they were just teenagers, and I don't think they were happy with killing me in cold blood. Anyway, they argued in Kurdish I think. I couldn't follow it. They made a call, again in Kurdish, then I was being bundled into a car. I'm not complaining that they didn't kill me though."

"No," he said fervently. "I'm not either." He sighed heavily. "Be careful," he said. "And call me when you're on the grid safely."

"I will," she said. He followed her out into the hallway so Catherine couldn't watch as he kissed her goodbye.

"I need you alive, Ruth," he said before kissing her again.

"I'll be home late," she said. "Pick up our stuff from the hotel if you've got the time."

"I will." He kissed her again and she smiled slightly as he gave her the car keys. He watched her leave and sighed. He knew that her going back to work was the right thing, but that didn't mean he liked it. Had he still been in charge, he'd have done the same thing and they both knew it. He sighed and went back to the kitchen, where Catherine was waiting.

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><p><strong>More soon, and a massive thank you for your reviews.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

Ruth collapsed on the bed, fully dressed, exhausted and aching everywhere. Harry put down the newspaper he'd been pretending to read while pretending he wasn't worried about his wife and he turned to her. "Disaster averted?"

"Mm," she said. "They're now all in custody, properly this time, and we've handed them over to MI6, so the international plan is no longer our problem."

"Good," he said.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," she said. "I wanted to listen in to their interviews."

"And?"

"Reading between the lines, I think…" she sighed, kissing his shoulder before turning to look at him. "It wasn't a suicide mission," she said. "They were planning to leave the bombs in rucksacks and detonate remotely. And, added to that, I think they wanted to get away with it. They weren't planning to get caught."

"What's the point you're trying to make?" he asked quietly, knowing she was leading him somewhere but unable to see it.

"I've been thinking about it all day. About why they didn't shoot me. Or you, for that matter. I'm not complaining, but it bothers me because it's not logical."

"I know what you mean," he said, stroking her hair.

"From what Azam said, and what he didn't say, I got the impression that if they'd killed either of us, we, I mean MI5, we wouldn't have let it go, and we wouldn't have been bothered taking them in alive either. You know how the team reacts to a death, we'd have shot them on sight."

"Mm," he said. "You think they value their lives that highly?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I think they wanted to claim their reward. They were working for someone bigger, but they're keeping silent about who it was. But it's the only thing I can put together that makes even partial sense." She frowned and then winced because it hurt and he had to smile. Ruth liked things that made sense, and when things didn't add up, it really bothered her.

"You're going to go over the MI6 interviews with a fine tooth comb aren't you?"

"Yes," she said. "You know me too well. And I'm going to find out who they were working for. Because whoever it is told them how to find us in the first place. And I don't want someone like that with his freedom. Free to hurt us again. It was someone who knew we were in the hotel in the first place. I can't think who'd have access to that kind of information and sell us out."

"I'm sure you'll find out who it is," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," she said. She curled into his side, breathing in his familiar scent as his arm wrapped around her back, gently because of her bruises. She kissed his neck softly and he sighed.

"You're cold," he murmured.

"Mm." She sighed heavily, looking at him lying under the duvet, shirtless and she felt her fingers ache to touch him, to reassure herself at the reality of him after such a God awful day. She sat up and unbuttoned her blouse, quickly changing into her pyjamas. As she did so, she was very aware of Harry's eyes on her bruises but she tried to ignore it.

"When did you find me missing?"

"I didn't," he said, sensing an uncomfortable conversation coming up. "I… woke up when I heard the click of the gun."

"You were awake?" she asked in surprise.

"I haven't lived to make it to my retirement without recognising the sound of a gun aimed on me," he said. "I… my mind went blank. I couldn't think logically beyond the fact that I could lose you and… well, training kicked in. I wasn't armed and I didn't know what to do or say that would avoid getting a bullet in one of us. I rolled over and I could feel the tension in the room rocket and I didn't want one of them to pull the trigger by accident. Yes, doing nothing was bad, but I could alert the grid straight away."

"Oh," she said in a small voice, not sure what to do with that, as she sat on the bed.

"I felt useless," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I'd never have forgiven myself if they'd killed you." Harry's eyes hesitated at her cut eyebrow and bruised eye, and she realised that he wasn't going to forgive himself anyway. "I'm sorry," he said, touching a bruise on her ribcage with a feather light touch as she lay down next to him, curling into his shoulder.

"It's okay," she said, and it was true. She knew exactly why he'd done it, because she hadn't known what to do in that situation either. "I don't think you getting shot would have helped me in the slightest."

"I'm so glad to be home," she said.

"And I'm glad you're home too," he said. He kissed her jaw gently and after a few moments they were both curled up comfortably with each other, Ruth halfway to sleep. He looked over her face in profile, thanking God that she was still with him. Today had been a bad day, and he hoped it wasn't an omen for their marriage.

He turned away from her to switch off the lamp and by the time he wrapped his arms around her again, she was shaking. He knew it was a reaction to an incredibly tough day, now that she'd had the chance to stop and think about it. It was always the hardest once things had stopped happening, he knew from experience. In the middle of an operation, you would keep working and the adrenaline would keep you going. Now that was over for her, and he held her as she kept shaking.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she said as the tears started. "I just…"

"It's okay," he soothed. He rubbed his hands over her back over and over again until she'd cried all of her tears.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," he said. "It's okay." She kissed him gently in reassurance, and eventually they both fell asleep.

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><p><strong>More soon. Thanks for keeping reading and especially reviewing.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Well, much to my surprise, this is the last chapter, though I could probably be persuaded to write an epilogue if anyone wants it.**

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><p>Ruth awoke sometime in the middle of the night, her hand on Harry's hip. He shifted in bed, rolling to face her and she knew that he was no longer sleeping. They kissed, and within a few brief minutes they were making love in the silence of the night, hands skimming over flesh wonderfully. When they'd both reached completion, he took her face very tenderly between his palms and kissed her lips with exquisite gentleness.<p>

"I love you," he murmured.

"I know," she said, her hand on his hip and pulling him close to her. "And I love you. Now sleep." And they both did.

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><p>The next time Ruth woke up, it was morning and she could smell the combined scents of bacon and coffee and she blinked herself back to consciousness, feeling an ache around her right eye as she did so. "Oh that smells good," she said as Harry proffered her a coffee. She took a sip of it, then another before speaking.<p>

"You know, you didn't have to treat me like this," she said, looking at two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon he'd brought up for them both. "It's going to give me inflated expectations for our marriage."

"Eat," he said kindly. The soft look in his eyes made her think that her bruising had darkened overnight, which made her sigh internally.

"Don't look at me that way," she said, eating very quickly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten and was ravenous. Once she'd finished her plate, Harry silently passed her his plate. She barely had a flicker of hesitation before taking it. "Thanks."

"Oh, I feel better after that," she said when she'd finished both plates. "Thank you."

"No problem," Harry said. He put the dirty plates on the tray, putting it on the floor so he could curl up with Ruth again. This didn't last long before her phone buzzed with a text message. She read it, then stiffened.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She silently passed him the phone and he quickly read the message.

_Found the one keeping the terrorists on the pay role. Oliver Mace._

"When will we ever get rid of that…" he paused, thinking of a good enough word to describe him.

"Bastard?" Ruth suggested.

"Mm," he said glumly. "Why support Islamic terrorists and bombings, though?" Harry asked.

"Well, he was never a good guy," Ruth said. She called Erin for more details while Harry went to have a shower. When he came back into the bedroom, she paused, looking over his wet body, a towel hung precariously around his hips.

"Ruth, don't look at me like that," he said.

"You don't normally mind," she said, lips twitching.

"Mace," he reminded her.

Ruth sighed heavily. "He's apparently gone off at the deep end," Ruth said. "He didn't like losing his power because of the Cotterdam scandal. He hired an expert hacker, Thomas Wood which is how he knew the information about where we were."

"Why would he want to blow up all those cities?" Harry asked.

"Well, London doesn't surprise me," she said. "From what Erin said, he's lost his grip on reality somewhat. I think he thought bombing London would be a punishment to the services for kicking him out into the cold. I don't know about the others."

"Where's he now?"

"His villa in the south of France. Some agents from 6 are going to bring him in," Ruth said. "Get to the bottom of this."

"But in the meantime, we could go to Paris," Harry said, lips twitching.

"Harry…"

"Look, there's always something in the way. We planned to go there anyway. It's our honeymoon Ruth."

"What about Mace?"

"He'll still be causing trouble when we get back home," he said.

"Oh don't pout like that at me," she said.

"Paris," he urged. "River cruises on the Seine, breakfast in bed in a hugely overpriced hotel room, meandering through Parisian museums in our afternoons."

She bit her lip as she looked at his earnest face "Rebook the Eurostar tickets," she said. "I'll make it clear that after today I'm going on our honeymoon. You're right, that was the plan. I'm not going to let anyone ruin it, not terrorists, not Oliver Mace, and not MI5."

"Good," he said fervently, kissing her deeply. "I'll get on the phone," he added as he got up to leave the bedroom.

"Harry," she said, her tone making him turn around. "I'm happy," she said. "In spite of the bruises, Mace, terrorists... all of it, I'm really happy with you."

"I know," he said. "Some days I can't believe you're here with me."

"Get on the phone," she said. "I can't wait for you and me and Paris."

He smiled and did what she asked, already looking forward to their slightly belated honeymoon.


End file.
